No One Knows It all
by scarsgirl
Summary: Peter discovers something about his ci that has him questioning how well he really knows Neal. Ensuing events turn Peter's world upside down, leading him to question all he thought he knew. Neal/OMC, eventual Peter/Neal, allusions dub-con and illness.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Peter took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. Life if the truck was hard, sweaty bodies cramped in a tiny space with little ventilation meant even the most innocuous odor could become overpowering in the tiny space. Jones had called a 'no perfume or cologne' rule years ago. A whiff of Polo was great, but breathing it in for 12 hours straight would cause the next 'whiff' you got to turn your stomach.

Diana moved as something finally caught her attention. "McClain has called Neal into his office." She said, catching Peter's eye and turning up her computer speaker. He grunted when movement caused a twinge in his back. The other drawback of the truck, the chairs were hell on the back.

"Well, well let's see what the 'new prince of finance' has to share with his right hand man." He smiled when she huffed at the description the Wall Street Journal had bestowed on the young financier. Of course, the Wall Street Journal didn't know that 'the Prince' was making his money through insider trading.

Peter focused his hearing. Neal had been undercover for over two weeks already. He'd been steadily gaining McClain's trust after replacing Beth Dyer. McClain's assistant, who had come to the Bureau with her suspicions about her boss. She'd given her notice that day, citing family issues and recommending a former co-worker, Nick Halden to take her place.

She had enough goodwill with McClain that he had called Neal in that day for an interview, offering him the job on the spot. He'd smiled at Peter slyly, when he'd asked how the interview went. "You doubt me, Peter?" He had just smiled back without answering. The last thing Neal needed was someone to stroke his ego.

McClain was waxing poetic about his skills as a negotiator as Neal ticked off his schedule for tomorrow (not including the 8 am raid the FBI had planned), when he offered Neal a drink. Neal could hold his liqueur and had accepted the odd glass of wine from McClain already, but it always caused Peter to tense when anyone undercover had to drink. The thing that made alcohol dangerous for an undercover agent wasn't that they would let something slip, most had enough training to keep that from happening, but that it could slow their reactions at an important moment.

"Thank you, Mr. McClain." Neal's voice came through crisp and clear. Peter could hear the smile in Neal's voice. McClain apparently had some excellent vintages in his office.

McClain's response was clear but his voice seemed lower than usual as he thanked Neal for all the hard work he'd been doing and for staying late. The undertone of their conversation was centered around the fact that Neal had passed on some information that McClain was going to use to make himself even richer in the morning. Actually, though, the information was going to land him in federal court before the market even opened tomorrow.

"You've been an incredible asset Nick," McClain's voice was still uncommonly low, but clearer too, somehow. Peter felt a crease in his brow form as he listened. What was McClain doing?

The crease deepened when, after a moment of silence, he heard a low 'hmmm' through the mic. "I hope that wasn't a mistake?" McClain said.

"It was a ...surprise, but not a mistake." Neal sounded a little breathless as he responded.

Peter's face went slack with shock when the very distinct sound of passionate kissing started playing from Diana's computer. He looked at Diana, who was looking at him wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open slightly.

Peter stood abruptly, faltering slightly when Jones pointed out that Neal hadn't used his trigger phrase to indicate that he was in trouble. "Well, it's probably hard for him talk with McClain's tongue down his throat." Peter replied incredulously as he re-took his seat.

"Mr. McClain," Neal said, sounding breathless and throaty, "maybe we shouldn't be doing this here."

Peter had a very intense fantasy involving his fist and McClain's face when he heard the man's low laugh. "Yes, I suppose kissing my assistant in the office is a bit cliché, but you're really quite irresistible."

Neal laughed low and light. "I'm more concerned with the fact that your father-in-law has an office on this floor than you ever being a cliché."

Both men laughed, the sound disturbingly intimate.

Peter felt a strange twist in his chest and had to blink his eyes several times to regain his focus.

"I don't suppose, you'd be interested in meeting at the nearest...well, the least sleazy hotel we could get in tonight?"

Neal made a pained sound, "I can't. Not tonight. I have a friend and if I don't show up, he'll..."

"He?"

"Is a friend, a very old one," Peter felt his brow crease again. Was Neal referring to him? He glared at Diana as she covered her mouth with two fingers. "And if I cancel on him this late, he would have no compunction about sitting me in a small room with a very bright light." Neal voice was still light as he half-laughed through the sentence. Peter decided that Neal could be a real ass sometimes.

Diana looked away as her shoulders began to shake. When he looked to Jones, he was very purposefully looking down at his folded hands between his knees.

Peter's attention was drawn back to the computer screen when the sound of another kiss came through. "Good night, Nick." McClain said his voice hoarse and deep.

"Good night, Mr. McClain." Neal's voice had taken on a more serious tone, causing Peter to rear up slightly. "And to you, Mr. Franklin." Neal could hear the sound of papers being gathered and glass clinking. "Oh and to you..?" Mr. Franklin said as Neal supplied his name for what had to be the 30th time and presumably walked out of McClain's office.

Peter closed his eyes; they had been seconds from the man's father-in-law walking in on them. Peter released a breath when he heard the quiet snick of a door being closed. At least Neal was out of the room.

"Do you want to pick him up or should I call him in for a quick debrief on the raid in the morning?" Jones asked, shrugging into his coat.

"Nah, I'll grab him at the corner and brief him on the way home...to his home, June's. I'm too tired and Neal's been in the middle of enough of these by now that he has the basics down." Peter pulled his own suit coat from the chair that had been torturing him for the past 12 hours as Diana gave him a considering look with one of her brows slightly arched. He was tired people could be tired and stumble over their words. It happened sometimes.

She and Jones began to shut everything down as he went for the door. "Good Night." He said quickly as he checked to make sure no one was paying attention to him as he left the truck.

* * *

><p>He was to his car in a couple of minutes and took out his phone to text Neal to meet him at the intersection at Pine. He felt the buzz of Neal's response as he started up the car. It was a simple answer 'okay', but for some reason there was a question mark next to the okay. Well, not next to it actually. There was a space and the question mark. Maybe it was just a typo?<p>

Okay, so he didn't text a lot, but everyone else did, so why would Neal make a big a deal out of it. Except Neal wasn't, he was. Jeez, he needed to get over himself before he picked Neal up or he'd know...Peter wasn't exactly sure what he thought Neal would know and shook his head to clear it, cranking the air in the car to wake himself up.

He'd been half-awake for too long. He was dropping Neal at June's, going home to eat with El and to try to get some sleep before the raid in the morning.

He felt himself smile overly-brightly, when he saw Neal leaning against a pole with one shoulder. He had been flipping his hat up by the brim and catching it when Peter had spotted him. He pulled the door of the sedan open and sat before someone could start honking at them to move through the intersection.

His eyes met Peter's briefly as he sat the hat on his knee. "So, I trust you have what you need to get McClain?" He said, watching the setting sun gleam through the skyscrapers.

"Yeah, you did a great job Neal. Diana called in the warrant and we'll being arresting him first thing in the morning."

Neal nodded and pursed his lips together. Peter's eyes traveled back to the traffic in front of him.

"Just ask, Peter."

Peter turned to face him quickly, "Just so you know, you never have to do anything that you are not comfortable with. If..."

"I wasn't." Neal broke in.

"Well, if you ever are..."

"Peter, he's been checking out my ass for two weeks. I was surprised it didn't happen sooner."

Peter looked to make sure the upcoming light was still green then turned back to meet Neal's eyes briefly. "Oh, and you didn't say anything because..."

"I didn't think it mattered and I knew I could handle it if it came up. So, to speak." Peter did a double take at the smile on Neal's face.

Peter nodded to the steering wheel. "So, that's probably happened before?" Peter was slowing for a light ahead, but he could hear the smile in Neal's voice. "Yeah, a few times?"

Peter felt the crease forming between his eyebrows as something twisted in his gut. He turned to Neal, who held up a hand to stop him. "Nothing happened in prison that didn't have the express consent of all parties involved." Peter shut his mouth and turned back to the wheel as that twist, loosened.

"Parties?" He said, glancing to see Neal's grin turned into a laugh.

"Oh my god Peter, tell me you haven't been watching prison porn." He said and laughed harder when Peter's jaw dropped at the accusation.

"Think more a hand job in a closet and less Oz. It was a maximum security prison after all."

Neal's words hit a strange memory of a moment he'd had at Neal's trial. He remembered being glad that the sentence was to be served in a max. He'd known that a man with Neal's looks at a less secure facility would have to have been on constant guard and in constant danger. He bit his lip thinking about the memory and wondering why he'd never had the concern for anyone else he'd had to send to prison.

"Peter?" Neal's voice had lost some of its mirth.

"Don't...don't feel guilty for anything. Like I said, nothing happened in prison that I didn't want to happen." Neal eyes squinted together slightly as he drew in.

"But something did, once?"

Neal's eyes relaxed as he glanced at Peter.

"You know you are good at this." Neal's mouth quirked slightly. "Maybe you missed your calling?"

Peter gave him the look. The look that meant that it was time for Neal to spill the beans. "One of my first cons, I was skimming from the till at this grocery store I worked at after school. The owner's son caught me," Neal looked down at his hat where it sat on his knee as he went quiet. Peter was just opening his mouth to say... Something, when he continued.

"He was pretty adamant that he was going to tell his dad, but I persuaded him otherwise." Neal huffed out a small laugh as he continued to look out the front of the car. "It was a pretty sweet deal, until I realized I was basically a whore and quit."

Peter bristled, "You were a scared kid and stealing or not he had no right to do that to you. Who was he? You need to make a statement in the morning. The statute of limitations is probably up..."

"Whoa, Peter calm down. I was 16 and legal. He wasn't even 18 yet and it was my idea, not his."

Peter pulled his jaw tight as he sank into the car seat. He'd gotten so fired up he was levitating off the seat slightly.

"Oh," He said after a moment.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this. You're obviously not comfortable..."

"Who's not comfortable? I'm comfortable."

"I just didn't know. If you're whatever...that's..."

"It's just Kate."

Neal laughed as his head fell back against the seat. "I like to think I'm whatever the situation calls for." Neal shrugged when Peter turned to look at him. "It's been very helpful in my chosen profession ...and my not-chosen profession as it turns out."

Peter looked askance at him as he turned on to June's street. He lifted his chin as he processed Neal's words. "Are you telling me you change your sexuality based on the situation? Neal that's..." Peter was at a loss.

"I don't even want to know what looks like on the Kinsey scale." Peter shook his head as he pulled up to June's. Neal huffed, "Yeah, I'm not sure I want to know either."

He put the car in park and turned his body to Neal, putting at arm over the back of the car seat to steady himself. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Peter, I'm sure I'm not going to accuse some guy that I talked into a blowjob, of assaulting me."

Neal opened the door and got out, turning and ducking down to look back in. The sun was nearly down and everything was taking on a golden hue. "We're okay aren't we?"

Neal could have pulled a gun and shot him and he wouldn't have been more taken aback. "Of course. Yes. I just. It was...it was unexpected, but if your sure your alright." Peter was pointing at him with two fingers and had to ball his hand into a fist when Neal eye's traveled to them. "Then I'm alright. And, we're alright. Alright?"

Neal shook his head ruefully as he fought to keep a smile off his face. "Alright, Peter." He said, pulling back and shutting the door. Peter stayed to make sure he made in the door, throwing a wave back to Neal, before pulling out to head home.

* * *

><p>He'd wondered the whole ride home what El would have to say about what Neal had told him. He felt a little guilt pang about telling Neal's secrets but Neal knew that he told El everything and he would like to know if he was the only one who had not seen that coming from a mile away. Diana and Jones had both seemed only mildly surprised and more interested in Peter's response than what was happening in McClain's office.<p>

Which, now that he thought about, meant that someone he thought he knew better than anyone, well anyone except for El, that maybe he didn't know at all? He exhaled harshly. Or maybe Neal was right and he taking this way too seriously.

So, Neal didn't tell him that he was what? Bisexual or more likely heterosexual but with some homosexual tendencies. And, now he was thinking about Neal like he was a pie-chart. He turned off the car and closed his eyes to clear his head before he got out of the car.

If he said anything that El mistook as any kind of ism he'd be called on the carpet so fast it'd make Hughes look like a probie, so he talked himself through what he wanted to say to her. Which was just mostly that he didn't know and that for some reason he found it unsettling that there was something so fundamental about Neal that he didn't know.

He could already hear El telling him that maybe he wasn't always the smartest man in the room, probably to be followed up by something about his emotional intelligence. He felt unaccountably happy at the thought of El setting him straight as he got out of the car and made his way up the steps. He already had his keys out and quickened his pace when he heard Satch whining at the door.

He barely had time to grab him as he bolted when Peter opened the door. "Whoa Satch," He said and turned to see if El was in his line of site. Satch lifted his leg to pee. Peter gritted his teeth together. He'd have to get the hose out. "El?" He called into the house as he pulled Satch in.

Her purse was on the table by the door. He would've been worried, but Satch seemed fine. If something was wrong he'd be going nuts about more than just needing to pee.

"El?" He called again as he went up the stairs. The light was on in the hall and their bedroom door was slightly open. He walked slowly toward the door. "El?" He whispered as he came to the door, a smile breaking out when he saw her on the bed, still in the dress she'd had on this morning, sound asleep.

"El?" He said coming to the bed and laying a hand against her cheek. She startled awake at the touch. He smiled when she huffed out a breath. "I thought you said you'd be late?"

"I am. It's after nine?"

Her smile faded, "Nine? Damn it! I came up here to catch a few minutes sleep 3 hours ago." She said pulling herself up and looking around for a clock to confirm the time.

"Did you not sleep good last night?" He asked as she began to tug at the zipper of her dress and scoot off the bed. "I slept fine, I thought, but I was exhausted when I got home. Satch!"

"I took him out when I got home. He's fine, but I can't believe he didn't try to wake you?"

"He probably did. I guess I was just out of it." She said as the dress slide off her shoulders. He could see her ribs as she bent down. "You've been eating haven't you? You're not on some crazy diet?" She looked over her shoulder at him the smile completely gone.

Peter felt that feeling he gets just before something goes wrong on a stakeout or with Neal.

"No," she said as she turned back to the dresser to pull out a pair of pajamas. "I thought it was just...we've been so busy." She turned suddenly, a smile plastered on her face. "I think we both need a break. Any Chance you could take off Friday?" She stopped when what Peter suspected was a grimace formed on his face. "We're serving McClain tomorrow. I'll probably have to work late on Friday."

Her face fell slightly, but she recovered quickly, a warm smile coming to her face as she began to saunter back to him sans dress or pajamas. "Well, I suppose a weekend in could have its good points too?" She said coming to straddle him as he perched on the edge of the bed.

"I have at least three ready right now, if you need them?" He said, as he gently kissed her collarbone. It was more pronounced than usual. How could he not have noticed that she was losing weight? Of course, spending from dawn to dusk in the truck and working...they'd both been so busy.

"If you're off on Friday," He planted another kiss a little closer to the center of her chest. "I want you to go the doctor." She drooped in his arms. "Peter?"

"I mean it. At the very least, I want them to weigh you and if you've not been eating right," She huffed and attempted to pull away, so he grabbed her hips, "I will tie you to the bed and spend the weekend feeding you."

She settled back against him. "Is that a promise?" She smiled wickedly at him. He was the only one that got that smile.

"You bet it is." He said as he leaned in and kissed her, everything else forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Eleven Months Later...

Peter exhaled heavily as he sat. He'd not slept last night and it had been a long day. They had buried Elizabeth at 2 and it was nearing 7 now, but way he was feeling he wouldn't make it past 9. He turned his drifting attention to Satch, when he jumped onto the small sofa and snuggled into his lap. Truth be told, Peter was glad to have the excuse to put a little distance between him and the few people left in the house.

Neal and Sara were busily putting food away and cleaning up the kitchen as Diana and Christy tidied up the living room. El's mother had retreated to the back porch after her sister left and seemed to be in need of a few moments herself.

Peter had wanted to comment on how well Neal and Sara seemed to work together, but he just didn't have the energy to do any 'yentaing' and it was probably useless at this point. He could see the distance between them plainly; whatever they'd had or been working toward, was over. Neal had this way of unconsciously pulling people to him, but Sara's body language made it clear that she was no longer one of those people. Peter had been so distracted with...everything, he'd not yet gotten the full story on what happened to make it so.

At least Neal and Mozzie had finally seemed to make up after 'the treasure' debacle. Neal didn't show hurt often but when Mozzie had dropped out of his life 'to deal with a few personal issues' after Neal had led Peter to the treasure, he'd been edgy and distracted for days. Peter felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Of course, their reconciliation had been El's doing. She'd been holding court at the hospital and home for weeks before Mozzie finally agreed that seeing El was more important than holding his grudge against Neal.

Once the two men where in the same room with each other, it took just a gentle nudge from El to get them talking again. Peter had smiled knowingly at the innocent expression she'd made when Neal argued that she wasn't playing fair.

He was a little lost in the memory, so he started lightly when he felt a warm hand cover the one he had on Satch's shoulder. Diana smiled at him sweetly, partially bent in front of the sofa as Christie looked on behind her. "We're going to head on home. If you need anything..." She left the words hanging, lifting her brow at him. She knew him well-enough to know that he wouldn't ask, besides, well, it was strange. He really didn't feel like he needed very much at all. There were things he wanted...wanted desperately, but right now he just needed to sit on the couch with his dog for a little while, take him for a walk later, have a glass whatever wine Neal had opened for them when he got back and go to bed.

"Thanks, Diana. Thanks for coming." He managed a weak smile, he knew it must have been pathetically weak when she patted his hand before straightening back up, pulling her suit jacket down when it rode up a little. "Good night, Peter," Christie called over Diana's shoulder as they linked hands and walked to the front door.

Peter watched their interlocked hands as they disappeared from view.

He could hear Neal and Sarah exchanging a few brief words that he couldn't quite make out followed by what Peter guessed to be a peck on someone's cheek. He managed a stronger smile for Sarah than he had for Diana, when she popped around the bookcase pulling on her jacket. Peter could see that the work in the kitchen had given her a light sheen of sweat, but she managed somehow to look incredibly put together by the time she made it to him.

She too, bent to speak and it occurred to him that maybe he should try standing. All this bending over to address him was causing him to feel like a misbehaving child. "Neal's got everything under control in there. It looks like you'll have leftovers for a few days at least, but if you..."

"Everything's fine," He interrupted her without thinking, halting momentarily before continuing in a softer tone, "thanks for helping out, Sara. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I was glad to help." She rubbed her hand over his in much the same manner Diana had, giving Satch's fur a quick ruffle before straightening back up. "We'll see each other soon." She said in a reassuring tone. He nodded his head in agreement, but really, unless she and Neal got back together it was unlikely they would see each other anytime soon. They might cross paths when their work inter-meshed, but outside of that, they would have no reason to interact at all now.

He met her eyes again as she opened the door, sharing quick smiles as she too, left.

He turned his head from the closing door when he heard the sound of the back door being opened. Neal was talking to Laura. She had retreated out there to smoke when the cleaning had started. Peter could tell that she had wanted to help, but not knowing Neal or Diana very well had opted instead to get a little space for herself.

He could hear Neal asking if she needed anything and telling her that he had made up the spare bedroom for her. Peter felt his face turn down into a frown. What the hell had he been thinking? They only had one spare bedroom. He hadn't even thought about where Laura would sleep when he had invited her to stay instead of heading back to her sister's house for the night. Damn it! He'd essentially kicked Neal out after everything he'd done for him, for El.

He saw concern mare Neal's face as he approached Peter. "Neal, I'm sorry I didn't even think."

"What?" Neal said, genuinely perplexed-looking.

"Inviting Laura..." He made a hand motion toward the stairs.

"Oh, God! Peter, No, think nothing of it. I need to get back to June's anyway. I've taken advantage of your hospitality long enough."

Peter snorted loudly. "My... you've practically kept me together body and soul." A wave of melancholy had him turning his face down. He felt a little guilty as he pet Satch in long strokes down his flank. "You didn't have to do that, but...well thanks, Neal. It's meant a lot to me."

"Think nothing of it Peter." He said, then dropped his voice lower, "The day Kate died, if you hadn't been there." Peter eyes rose to find Neal shaking his head, a far off look in his eyes. Peter knew he was remembering that day. It had been, before El, one of the most gut-wrenching moments of his life. He'd had to use all of his strength to hold Neal back from the flames. Finally, having to throw Neal down bodily and lying on him until he stopped fighting to get to the plane.

Peter had held him until the airport EMS had arrived, forcing them back as the firefighters worked to put out the flames. Neal had gone silent for a long time afterward. Peter had had to step up to ask the hard questions and to identify Kate's body when they pulled her from the wreckage.

Neal had stayed the night with him and El, in the same room he'd been staying in for the past several weeks. But after getting over the shock that first night, Neal had distanced himself from everyone as he struggled to come to terms with loss. They'd all had to work hard to bring Neal back to them. Peter felt his throat tighten at the memory.

"You'll be by tomorrow?" He asked hopefully. "I had a few thoughts on the Benson case."

"Peter," Neal's tone held reprimand, "you're not working tomorrow. It's Sunday. You're supposed to be relaxing and if I do come by, it will be to talk you into taking more time off."

Peter felt a twist in his gut. "No!" He answered gruffly turning his face away at the hurt look Neal gave him. "I can't stay in this house."

"You don't have to..."

"I'm not taking a trip! She practically had to beg me..." Peter clamped his jaw shut.

"Peter." Neal's voice was soft and the look in his eyes when Peter met them was pleading.

"I'm sorry." Peter held up a hand when Neal opened his mouth to speak. "I just want to get back to work. I need some normal. Okay?"

"Okay, Peter. If that's what you want." Neal had crossed his arms as he spoke. He didn't like the idea, but he would deal with it.

"What time will you be back from the airport? I'll swing by the office and grab the case files."

"Oh, Laura's heading out pretty early. I should be back before you're even out of bed."

Neal gave him a mock affronted look. "I'll have you know that between prison and working for the FBI, I've learned the pleasure of being an early riser."

Peter smiled a little at that. "Yeah, yeah. The mean old FBI making you wake up too early."

Satch sat up, allowing Peter to stretch his legs a little. "Tell you what. Come for lunch and stay for the game. We'll go over the files while we eat and at half-time."

"Sounds like a plan." Neal gave him a quick half-smile, fidgeting for a moment before heading to the hall closet to pull out his already packed bag.

Peter felt his brow furrow. When did he get the time to pack that? When Neal turned and saw the look on his face, "What? I'm stealthy. It's one of the things that make me a great con...fidential informant."

Peter harrumphed slightly as he urged Satch off the couch so he could stand. "Is that so?" He said as walked to where to Neal stood, one hand on the door knob now.

"It's what they tell me, anyway." Neal tilted his face down as a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Well, whoever has been stroking your ego at work is going to have hell to pay when I get back in the office on Monday." He said coming to halt in front of Neal.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence when they realized how close they were standing. Peter shook his head at his self. He was a grown man. Did he really need to invade Neal's space or bully him into coming over tomorrow just because he couldn't stand the thought of being alone just yet?

Neal's eyes had softened as Peter came to his senses and stepped back to give him room to open the door. He wasn't even going to be alone. Though, Laura was so..."No mother should outlive her child," she had said, when El had slipped into unconsciousness. She had been doing her duty to her daughter's friends and the rest of the family, but she had been so drained and she had Peter just hadn't been able to support each other the way they wanted to. If anything, they seemed to drain each other. Their grief too much for the other while dealing with their own sense of loss.

"If you need..." The look on Neal's face told Peter that he knew he was the twentieth, 'if you need' of the day, but he also knew it was one of the most sincere, so he gave him a forgiving smile and said, "I know. I know. I'll call."

Neal opened the door with one hand then switched his bag so that he had a free hand to put up for a shake. Peter looked down at the hand and back up to Neal doubtfully as he pulled him close with one arm. Neal melted against him slightly as Peter squeezed him once, then twice, clapping his back as he pulled away. "Thanks Neal. Really." His voice had grown scratchy. He pulled back as Neal maneuvered into the doorway, clapping his shoulder once more as he turned away.

"Anything you need, Peter." He said as he reached to pull the door shut behind him. Peter grabbed the door before Neal did, leaning against it as an excuse to keep it open so he could watch Neal leave. "Goodnight, Neal." Peter said, nodding his head when Neal looked over his shoulder at him.

"Night, Peter." Neal said as he trotted down the steps. Peter watched as he turned left at the bottom of the steps, giving Peter a nod when he started to walk to the intersection to catch a cab.

Peter felt Satch rub against his leg and bent to take hiss leash from the basket next to the couch where El kept it. He told Satch to "Sit," so he could put the leash on for his walk. He supposed he should ask Laura if she wanted to join them, though she would probably decline, he decided it would be rude not to ask. He pulled gently on Satch's collar to let him know they'd be going out the back door first and readied himself to speak to El's mother by taking a deep, cleansing breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Neal would have knocked but he was certain that there was no way Peter would be able to hear him over the din of noise coming from the house. He tested the handle, his eyebrow arching slightly when he found it unlocked.

"Peter!" He called as he opened the door, looking toward the wall of sound in the living room. He found Peter there, perched several steps up a ladder, drill in hand, working intently on the brick above the fireplace. Neal wound his way around the furniture that had been moved to make room for the ladder so he could get Peter's attention without yelling.

"Peter!" He called when he got close enough that he thought Peter could hear him above the sound.

He startled slightly before turning, lifting the goggles he'd used to protect his eyes. "Neal? Damn it." Peter looked at his watch, "I wanted to be done before you got here." He said a little too loudly, before realizing what he was doing and pulling the plugs out of his ears.

"What are you doing?" Neal was half-laughing as he spoke, looking around at the mess of the living and dining room.

"Re-arranging," Peter said, as he sat the drill on the ladder step. "I'm mounting the TV, here," he nodded toward the fireplace, "and putting the couch there," he pointed to the left of the bookcase, "make a kind of hallway with the couch and a table behind for some storage." Peter was smiling proudly as he spoke.

"And your dining room?" Neal asked tipping his head to the empty space that usually held the dining set.

"Oh, I sold the table; it's why I'm so late. They were supposed to be here to pick it up early, but had trouble getting the truck, which made them late and then made me late..." Peter said moving his hand in a wave-like motion. "I'm moving my office down here. I mean, I don't need a dining table with the breakfast bar and I never use the office because it's on the third floor and you know how hot it gets up there in the summer?"

"Whoa, Peter slow down. There's no way you could get that all done in one morning."

"Well," Peter shrugged, "I was only hoping to get the living room done today and the rest I'll work on as I can." He smiled winningly at Neal, "or when I can talk someone into to helping me move the heavier furniture down two flights of stairs."

"I thought I was supposed to be the conman." He smiled back ruefully.

"Well, going down couldn't be as bad as getting that stuff up there. Me an El were sore for a week after we moved in." He felt his smile fade and tried to hide it by moving toward the kitchen. "You wanna beer? I'll hook the TV up and order a pizza."

"Sure, but..." It was rare for Neal to have to struggle for words. "Are you sure you should be making all these changes?" he faltered slightly when Peter's movements slowed as he reached into the refrigerator, "I mean ...it's only been a couple of months, Peter." He tried to make his voice soft as he spoke.

"I'm not doing anything too radical." Peter's voice had lost its enthusiasm. "Just moving a few things around, getting rid of things I don't use anymore..."

He kept his back turned as he opened the bottles. "Hey, yeah, sure and I'll be glad to help, but take it slow. You've got..." He bit his lip to keep the words from coming out, but Peter's stiff shoulders told him that he had heard them nonetheless.

"I've got all the time in the world." Peter's voice sounded bitter. Peter's face was a mask when he turned to hand the bottle to Neal.

"Peter," Neal followed him as he walked back to the living room, setting the beer down without taking a drink and picking up the drill. "I'm just saying you have time. If you want to change the house do it. I just don't want you to do anything you might regret later."

"I couldn't stand it anymore." Peter said as he started up the ladder again.

"Stand what?" Neal moved to the other side of the ladder so he could see Peter's face and to keep him from turning on the drill and tuning him out.

Peter shook his head as he looked down at him from his perch. "I couldn't sit at that stupid table by myself..." he inhaled sharply, "and it just got to the point where I couldn't stand to look at it. I tried sitting at the counter, but I could feel this space behind me and then I tried sitting on the couch but I could see it just sitting there empty." He closed his eyes and looked down. "I know it sounds..."

"It doesn't, Peter. I get it. I do." Neal reached out, clasping the hand holding on to the ladder in his. "So the table's gone and we're," he emphasized the we're, "going to do some redecorating, just you know, a room at a time. We'll make it a project. I need a project."

Peter lifted his head, "We're not redecorating, we're refurbishing." Neal rolled his eyes at the correction. "Okay, refurbishing. So..." he sat down his own drink and pulled at the cuff of his shirt to start rolling it up, "installing the TV. How are you going to mount it?" Peter perked up slightly and answered, "That's the other reason I'm a little late. Had to buy a kit to mount it," he pointed to the box leaning against the wall, "and some screws for brick instead of what came with the box. It was a thing." He said as he waved the drill around.

"Well, I am your humble servant," he ignored Peter's snort, "where do you want me to start?"

"Oh, uh, open up the box and get the instructions out. You read and I'll do what you say...just this once." He added quickly, cutting off Neal's rejoinder.

"You know, I suddenly have this weird sinking feeling." Neal smiled and flashed his eyes at Peter, who just shook his head at him ruefully and turned back to the wall, flipping on his drill.

* * *

><p>Peter hadn't realized that he had started to drift after the game went into overtime, until Neal kicked his ankle forcing his eyes open. "I can leave, if you're ready for bed." Neal said, catching Peter's eyes as he blinked to clear them. "Nah, I'm just...the food and then this game going on forever," he yawned eliciting a huff from Neal, "and I got up so early."<p>

He tried to lift himself out of his lazy sprawl, but only partially succeeded. "Looks good, Right?" He nodded to the newly mounted TV. "Yeah, it's great and I like couch here too. Good move."

They slipped into silence as the game came back on. "Another beer?" Peter fought another yawn.

"No, thanks. I've got some left."

Peter made a noncommittal sound as he angled his arm so he could rest his head against it. "Okay, that's it. I'm leaving." Neal said, pushing himself to his feet, petting Satch when he came to him.

"What?"

"You're half-asleep. I'm going home so you can go to bed."

Peter pushed against the couch cushions so he could stand, wincing as a few muscles made argument against the move. "I'm not asleep. Besides, I've gotta take Satch out. It'll wake me up. We can DVR the game and you can make us some gourmet dessert while we're out."

"A walk, uh?" Neal looked him up and down. "You look like you can barely move. What did you do? Carry that table out on your back?"

"The door, the stairs, lifting it on the truck. I think I should have stretched first."

"How about I take Satch for his walk and grab some ice cream at the corner and you find some muscle relaxers and the heating pad?"

"Heating pad?" Peter made a cross-looking face. "I think I can take my dog for a walk. I'm not that decrepit yet" He winced again when he bent to take Satch's collar and pull the leash from the basket.

"Here's a plan. We go together, take Satch on his walk and get the ice cream." Neal spread his hands magnanimously.

Peter locked the leash in place and fought hard not to let his face show the flare of pain when he straightened. "Sounds like a plan." Peter agreed.

"That way," Neal continued as though he hadn't missed a beat, "I can carry you back when you fall over."

Peter glared at him, but didn't respond as he tugged on Satch's collar and head for the door.

* * *

><p>"That's one of the things that attracted us to the neighborhood." Peter said as he held the door open so Neal could precede him in the shop. A patron standing in line eyed Satch, but the owners where an elderly couple and they had always allowed Satch in, health regulations be damned.<p>

"The first neighborhoods we looked at had all this cookie-cutter housing. You know the kind where each house is supposed to be different, but they're really all the same."

"I've never seen the appeal. Every house should tell a story." Neal said. "That's what I said." Peter agreed, smiling brightly.

They were silent for a moment as they looked at the list of the day's flavors.

"Let me guess? Vanilla?" Neal said, his voice showing how amusing he found himself.

Peter smirked at him, "As a matter of fact they have a French Vanilla that I rather enjoy."

"What about you, Neal? They have Rocky Road?" His eyebrows rose mockingly.

"I feel like there's a joke in there somewhere, but I'm not getting it."

They moved to the counter when the customer in front of them finished paying and scooted around Satch to leave.

"Mr. Burke!" An older gentleman greeted Peter enthusiastically, causing Neal's eyes to widen.

"So good to see you!" The man enthused.

"You to, Mr. Marcos." Peter ducked his head a little. El had always done well with the older gentleman's enthusiasm, but Peter found it a little overwhelming, so he turned his attention to Neal. "See anything you like?" He asked, then felt his brow furrow. That sounded a little like a come on.

Neal barely suppressed a laugh and Peter felt his face heat when he saw Mr. Marcos eying him suspiciously. "Why Peter, I never thought you'd ask." Neal said in a mockingly seductive manner, as he leaned into the counter to get a better look at the flavors behind the glass case. Peter was smiling at him wondering if he'd ever be able to resist a line like that if only for proprieties sake, when he looked up to find that Mr. Marcos was now scowling, a disgusted look on his face, as he watched Neal.

Peter felt anger rise in his chest. He was just getting ready to berate the man when Neal's face rose. When his eyes glimpsed the look on Mr. Marcos' face, his entire body tensed. He attempted to hide the step he took away from Peter by making his order and stepping toward the register.

Peter felt his mouth hanging open slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Um?" Neal's face was closed off and distant.

"Cancel that order." He barked at Mr. Marcos.

"Peter?" Neal's voice had a slightly pleading sound to it, but it didn't stop Peter from speaking over him. "And, I can't believe that you have a business in this neighborhood with that kind of attitude."

"Peter!" Neal stepped back into his space.

"You can't..."

"It's El, Peter."

"What?" Peter turned his attention back to Neal.

"It's not...he's upset over El, I think." Neal licked his bottom lip as he looked down and away.

"I don't discriminate against no one, Mr. Burke." Mr. Marcos argued, even though he was still flummoxed by Peter's tirade, "But your wife was such a good person. I...ah...didn't mean anything. I suppose it's none of my business besides..."

"Mr. Marcos," Peter held up his hand in a placating manner, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just thought. You know what, never mind what I thought. I misinterpreted." He felt Neal tugging at his elbow, probably trying to stop him from tripping all over himself.

"Peter, it's alright. It's alright Mr. Marcos and just for the record, we're friends and that's all."

"You don't have to explain to anyone what we are." Peter said incredulously, though most of the steam from his tirade was now gone.

Neal opened his eyes wide as he looked up at Peter, begging him to shut up. "Why don't we go home and I'll make us something for dessert instead?"

Peter felt his shoulder's sag even as Satch tugged on the lead. "Yeah, let's do that." He said, shooting Mr. Marcos as apologetic look as he followed Neal out the door.

Neal was walking fast, a few steps ahead of him. Peter grimaced as he upped his pace to catch up with him, even though it was killing his back.

"Okay, so I may have overreacted in there?"

Neal exhaled heavily, "You think? Peter, you nearly took the guy's head off."

"Well, Gee, I'm sorry for trying to stand up for you."

"For me?" Neal sped up as they rounded the corner to Peter's street.

"You're really going to tell me you felt like you had to defend my honor."

"Your honor, no, but the way he was looking at you."

"And how was he looking at me?"

"Like I don't know, I think he thought we were flirting and I guess I thought he didn't like it because you're...uh."

"I'm uh... a man, you mean. Are you sure you're not angry because he thought you were flirting with me?"

"No!" He ran a few steps, calling for Satch to keep up. "That has nothing to do with it."

"Really? And are you telling me that if he had thought a woman was flirting with you you'd have gone off on him like that?"

"Yes or well no, because I wouldn't be flirting with anyone, but yes because you're my friend and no one is allowed to treat you like that for any reason."

Neal slowed, but Peter couldn't tell if it was because they were getting close to the house or if he too, was running out of steam. He turned to look at Peter, an unreadable look on his face. "And that's the only reason you got upset."

"Of course." Peter knew he sounded bewildered. It wasn't the first time trying to be noble had blown up in his face, but it was the first time that Neal had reacted so negatively towards him about it.

He followed Neal up the steps, still processing. "So, you're more angry at me for standing up for you than at that guy thinking I'm your sugar daddy?"

Neal halted at the top of the stairs and looked down at him. "Sugar daddy, Peter? Really?"

Peter was grasping, "I uh..."

"You're not rich enough for the sugar and not old enough for the daddy. I don't think any-one's going to mistake you for my sugar daddy."

"What?" Peter had lost the thread of the conversation somehow.

Neal just crossed his arms lifting a brow expectantly. "They could so!" Peter argued, continuing up the stairs, forcing Neal to step aside so he could unlock the door.

Neal's body shook with suppressed laughter, "You think?"

Peter looked over his shoulder as he entered the house, turning to release Satch's collar and giving his flank a hardy pat to encourage him toward the kitchen, when he seemed confused by the new placement of the couch.

"Well, yes! First of all, I'm not in your league looks-wise, the first mark of a sugar daddy. Secondly, I'm a good, 10 maybe 15 years older than you, at least I think I am, but since I'm pretty certain that the birthday I have for you is false, I can't be sure and although I'm not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, I do have a nice house and a good job..." Peter felt like his arguments where solid, but the look on Neal's face made it clear he didn't agree.

He took Satch's snack out of the cabinet and tossed it on the floor. "Well, your theory is sound, but unfortunately the foundations of your hypothesis are false. First, you are in my league," Peter felt his brow raising in doubt, "What? You're a good looking guy...you know, for your age." Neal smiled broadly at Peter's indignant huff, "And, you just couldn't be a sugar daddy."

Peter looked Neal up and down. His custom-cut suit and Peter decided that the term 'air of sophistication' must have been created for men like him. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'd have to sell my soul to some corporation before I could afford to keep you up."

A thoughtful look passed across Neal's face. "That's not what I meant. That type of relationship either implies or sometime explicitly entails an exchange of goods -affection, for money and not only are you not the type of man to enter into that type of relationship. You care too much about people to use money to win them over." Neal shrugged, "It's just not in you."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere?"

"It's in there." Neal agreed as he came to lean against the bar. Peter looked at him, leaning there, smiling cheekily at him. His face was relaxed now that his anger was gone and his eyes where shining with their usual mischief. He didn't care what Neal said he was totally out of Peter's league or would be, if Peter was attracted to men.

"Oreos and milk?" Peter offered, somewhat embarrassed.

Neal laugh was light and he bit his bottom lip before responding, "Do you know you can pair Oreos with Banyuls?"

"No, I didn't know that and even if I did, I'm afraid I'm fresh out." Peter opened his hands in a grand manner as though presenting the kitchen.

"Well, next time I'll bring the Banyuls, you bring the Oreos."

"Sounds like a date." Peter said lightly as he turned to find the glasses for the milk and the cookies in the pantry, never seeing the quick flash of emotion that crossed Neal's face before he answered lightly, "Sounds like a plan."


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't believe you and El pushed this thing up two flights of stairs by yourselves." Neal gritted out, as his foot sought the first step off the landing. Just two more steps and he would be able to set Peter's solid oak desk down for a minute and get the blood circulating back through his fingers.

"Yeah, only El didn't complain so much."

"Well, El probably didn't catch a corner in the groin when someone forgot to tell her that they were going to lift this monstrosity without counting down."

"I asked you," Peter grunted when Neal found the step and stepped down, pulling the desk with him, "if you were ready."

"I was ready...ready to countdown." Neal found the last step and was trying to angle the desk so it wouldn't hit the wall or the railing as they tried to work the desk around the turn on to the second floor.

He pulled hard, when Peter stumbled slightly causing the desk to scrap a line of paint off the wall. "Damn it." Peter spat, with no real anger.

"You okay?" Neal asked worriedly, as he moved off the step and into the hallway.

"Yeah," Peter answered as he sought the next step.

"One more step and we'll sit it down for a minute, okay?" Neal's fingers were burning and his groin was still smarting from the hit it had taken. If he didn't take a break he might do some permanent damage the two areas of his body he really wanted to keep in good shape.

"Sure, sure," Peter said, finally making the last step.

"Do I need to countdown?" Peter's voice was full of false concern.

Neal smiled brightly at the grunt that escaped Peter's lips when he dropped his hold on the desk the moment Peter's feet were on solid ground.

"Nah, I'm good." He said shaking his fingers out and stepping away as Peter gently sat his side of the desk down. "Why didn't you put your office on this floor? At least you'd have the air conditioners down here."

"Oh, El wanted the guest bedroom here and the office as far away from useful as she could get it." Peter chuckled lightly. Which was new, it'd just been in the last few days that he could think or talk about El and focus on the good moments more than the bad.

"Why don't you..." Neal trailed off as he pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. "Peter, are you sleeping in here?" He asked as his eyes filled with concern.

"Um," Peter felt his cheeks heat. "Yeah, the other bedroom's too big and too much of El is in there."

"I'm sorry, Peter, it's none of my business. I just..."

"No, it's fine." Peter hurried to add as he turned his attention back to the desk, trying to change the focus of the moment.

"Hey, Peter?" Neal sounded leery.

"Yeah?" Peter really didn't want to talk about this and he hoped his tone conveyed that desire.

"Why don't you run some air and heat upstairs, maybe some plumbing? You could make the entire floor a master suite. It'd really up the value of the house." Neal said as he walked to his end of the desk, looking at Peter expectantly.

Peter smiled back, his embarrassment fading and said, "On three?"

* * *

><p>"When are the air conditioners getting delivered?" Neal actually sounded petulant.<p>

"Between 2 and 4, according to the store." Peter was touching up a few spots on the trim that hadn't been protected by the tape. Neal watched, perched on the window sill, trying to cool off as best he could in the stuffy room.

"So, are you going to ask me what you've been waiting to ask me since yesterday or are we going to continue this whole talking about everything, but the one thing you want to talk about thing we've got going?"

Peter looked up from his position on the floor. "I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would."

Neal crossed his arms and looked at his feet dangling below him, careful not to scuff the newly painted walls. "I don't know, Peter. I mean it's a great offer, but a contract job with the government? It just isn't where I saw myself ending up after the anklet comes off."

"Where do you see yourself?" Peter's voice was carefully neutral.

"Honestly, I don't know. I used to think I'd get back in the game. Try to find the ultimate score, but when the treasure fell into my hands..."

"You mean when Mozzie stole it." Peter interjected.

"However, it came to be in my possession. I had this realization that as amazing as it was, it wasn't worth losing my life here."

Peter lifted his head to find Neal turning his face away from him. "Well, for my part, I'm glad. I would've hated spend all my weekends for the last year and half tracking you down -again." Peter lifted himself up; trying to hide the small grunt of effort it took.

"You would have tried to find me?" Neal's voice sounded strangely emotional, well, strange for Neal. He usually played everything so cool. Like none of it ever really touched him.

"Of course, I would have. A treasure like that, you'd have had every felon in Russia or Indonesia on your heels. I would have had to track you down just to keep you from getting yourself killed."

Peter smirked at the bewildered look Neal gave him. "How did you know about Indonesia?"

Peter's smirk turned into a smile, but he offered no reply.

Neal exhaled a put-upon sigh when he saw he was not going to get an answer. "What do you think? Should I go for it?"

Peter opened his mouth and closed it back, "To be honest, I'm not sure I'm the one you should ask if you want an unbiased opinion. I want you to stay if for no other reason than..." Peter felt his heart constrict as the blood in his veins sped up, "I'd miss seeing you every day." He turned to busy himself with putting away the paint supplies, waiting for a glib reply from Neal.

"I'd miss you to, Peter." Peter heard Neal jump down from the window sill and take a few hesitant steps toward him. Peter looked up when he felt Neal beside him, his heart speeding up when he saw the look in Neal's eyes. The moment seemed to take on a heaviness that stretched on as he and Neal continued to just stand there, looking at each other.

No wonder Neal could talk himself into almost anywhere he wanted. One look in those eyes and... Peter's skin was starting to feel tight, his breathing speeding up when Neal took another step closer. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite get the words to come out.

The sound of the doorbell followed by Satch's bark gratefully broke the moment and gave Peter an excuse to step away, as he hurriedly thumped the lid down on the can of paint he'd been using. Neal started gathering up the brushes from their makeshift worktable, taking them to the new sink they'd installed last week.

"I'll go get that." Peter said as rushed to the stairs, calling to let Satch know he was coming, and feeling relieved to have an excuse put a little distance between himself and Neal. He was still pondering his reaction to Neal, even as he greeted the delivery man and sent him up the stairs with the first unit. He heard Neal speaking, his voice carrying down the stairs as greeted the driver and told him where to drop the conditioner, so they could install it later. He felt a shiver go up his spine. Neal had a nice voice too, another reason he could talk himself into almost any door.

Satch rubbed his wet nose at his dangling hand, snapping him out of his fugue. "Hey Satch, you gotta stay down here until the paint is dry, okay? Then I'll take you for the grand tour." He said as he scratched him behind his ears, still feeling strangely disjointed and uncertain as he turned to find the delivery driver coming back down for the second unit.

"Jeez, it's hot up there, Man. These'll help your paint dry too." The driver offered, as he walked out the door to his waiting truck to grab the second smaller unit. "Here," Peter said as he came through the door, "I think I can handle that one."

"Oh, sure, if that's what you want." The driver, Peter bent to look at his name tag, "Yeah, Sam. Do I need to sign anything?"

"Yeah, the pen doesn't work great but as long as I can make out the last name," Sam said, handing Peter the electric scanner and stylus he pulled from his utility belt.

"Do these things ever work?" Peter asked and he pressed trying to make his signature show up on the screen.

"For about the first week as far as I can tell. Thanks, Mr...Burke?" Sam's eyebrow shot up.

"Burke's right. Thanks for lugging the other one up there."

"No problem," Sam replied as he turned heading back to his still running and double-parked truck. Peter followed him with the door, making sure to lock it, since he and Neal would be working upstairs for at least a little longer.

He hefted the unit on one shoulder and took the rail in the other as he walked up the stairs, his head feeling a little clearer than it had.

He found Neal cutting open the box of the larger unit, kneeling over it, so that his back was to Peter as he came off the stairs. His eyes rose to meet Peter's, registering a moment of surprise, (he'd been expecting the delivery guy) followed by an instant shuttering that Peter felt in his stomach.

He sat the second unit down next the first. He thought about just letting it go, but... "Is everything alright?"

Neal looked at him, the surprise coming back a little, "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Really fine or I don't want to talk about it, fine?"

Neal smiled at him ruefully, "Everything is fine, Peter. Let's get this monster hooked up before the paint starts melting."

Peter wanted to point out that changing the subject was the exact thing people did when things were not fine, but if Neal didn't want to talk about the strange moment they'd had, Peter couldn't argue the point, since he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it either.

Peter watched wordlessly as Neal finished cutting away the packaging from the unit. Looking up at him when he was done, a smile lighting his face as he said, "On three?"


	5. Chapter 5

Peter hated feeling jittery. He hated it mostly because the only time he felt that way was when things were out of his control. Well, not so much out of control as not controllable. When Neal was undercover Peter had very little control of what Neal did and how he did it and that was fine, because if Neal made a mistake he would be there to make it right, but this was different.

First of all, it was Neal's first case as an independent contractor, so not only was he under additional pressure to perform, if something went wrong there would be no tracker to follow. Not that they hadn't had to deal with that issue before, but at least the tracker had always given him a starting point. And second, the situation was... was...

"I don't like it."

Neal looked up to catch Peter's eyes. He was holding a mini-recorder in place while Diana rolled tape around his chest to keep it in place. "I don't think we have many options at this point, Peter. Lehmann wants me and Marianna to come alone and according to Jones none of our transmitters are going to work down there."

"Yeah and neither are your cell phones. If you have to run for it, you'll have nearly a half-mile of tunnel to get through before you hit a platform."

Neal grimaced, "I just bought these shoes, too."

Peter pulled his most serious, 'I'm serious, Neal' face.

Neal smiled at him winningly, the smile disappearing when Diana snapped the tape with a sharp tug before giving Neal a smile of her own. "You're all ready. Marianna will meet you at the tunnel entrance in five."

"Thanks Diana," Peter said as Neal nodded at her, an affectionately rye expression on both their faces as she exited the truck to get into position.

"If they try to search you..."

"They've searched me three times already. If he didn't trust us he wouldn't be showing us his stash."

"Or, he's taking you down there to kill you."

"Well, there is that possibility. Thanks for bringing it up."

Peter could move around now that Diana was out of the truck, so he stood to force Neal's attention. He was tugging his shirt over his shoulders as Peter came to a stop in front of him. "I mean it Neal, keep your eyes open. Don't let Marianna get you distracted. Remember, she may have her own agenda," Neal had left his tie hanging on the corner of a console, still partially knotted, so Peter grabbed it as Neal finished buttoning up his shirt. "If you get a whiff of anything," Peter gave the tie to Neal after he buttoned his collar, "I wish you would just carry a gun."

Neal pulled the tie down around his ears, "Peter you know how I feel about..." Neal stopped speaking abruptly when Peter tugged on the tie, pulling to make sure it was straight and tight, just the way Neal always wore it. Peter felt Neal's Adam's apple bob against his knuckles as he swallowed and turned his face to the side. He had a slight flush creeping up his neck and Peter worried that he had pulled the tie too tight, so he put his index finger in between the skin of Neal's neck and the fabric of his collar to loosen it, pulling back when the skin on skin contact made his stomach feel like it had just dropped to his knees.

"Are you okay, Peter?" Neal asked his voice tight.

"I'm fine." Peter said feeling discombobulated. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," He answered pulling his suit coat from a nearby chair and turning to tug it over his shoulders. Peter still felt his stomach churning as Neal adjusted the coat and stuffed his shirt tail into his pants. Peter shook his head to clear it. He couldn't let his confusion about his reactions to Neal cloud his mind. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

He smiled tightly at Neal when he turned to face him. The flush was fading as Neal slipped into the persona of Alex Turner, arms dealer and bad guy, effectively distancing himself from Peter. Neal's natural ability to turn personas on and off with ease was one of the things that made him a good…no a great con man. The fact that he felt the need to slip into his Turner persona now told Peter that he wasn't the only one who felt out his depth at the moment.

Peter really wanted to say something, but he needed time to think about what the hell it was he wanted to say, so instead he gave Neal a gruff, "See you, later," as he exited the truck.

* * *

><p>"I knew this was a bad idea!"<p>

Peter's feet were soaking wet because, of course, he'd run right through a puddle of water that Jones had somehow managed to miss as they pursued their target deeper and deeper into the long stretch of abandoned subway tunnel. He knew the moment was coming when he'd have to make the call to pull back, call in backup and set up a formal search for Lehmann, but he wanted to give Neal just one more minute to pull off a miracle and make his way back to them.

If Lehmann found a way out while they were twiddling their thumbs trying to organize a search, he'd have no reason to keep Neal alive.

He couldn't think about that now. He and Jones both slowed to a stop as they came an intersection, listening for an indication of which direction Lehmann and Neal could have gone. Diana was still at the platform tending to a wounded Marianna. By the time she had emerged from the tunnel, she had not seen Neal in almost five minutes. A lot could happen to Neal in five... two hard clanks echoed through the tunnel. Jones was two steps closer to the sound and was edging around a corner leading to another branch of the tunnel, his gun at half-mast as he moved slowly, trying to stay in shadow.

There was another hard clang, this time closer and followed by a guttural grunt. That was Neal. Peter was past Jones and into the tunnel before Jones could stop him. "Peter," He hissed as Peter came into the tunnel to find Lehmann lifting a two by four over a prone form.

Peter's bullet caught Lehmann in shoulder, sending him spinning. He hit the ground hard as Neal scrambled away.

Jones started barking orders at Lehmann to stay down and not to move the moment he hit the ground, his gun pointing at the man's back as he ran over and put a foot on his wounded shoulder to keep him still. Peter cuffed him, despite his protests about his injured arm as Jones searched him for his weapon.

"I got the gun away from him." Neal said breathlessly from the tunnel wall. Neal was sweating, dirty and out of breath but his face brightened when their eyes met, letting Peter know that he was alright. "I think it's over there, but I didn't see where it landed."

Lehmann let loose a string of curses that Peter only partially understood since his German was more than a little rusty. "Jones get Diana on the walkie and get the rest of the team down here." Peter said as he walked, half-crouched to Neal.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked as he dropped to his knees in front of Neal. Now that he was close enough to see more detail, he could see a large bruise forming on the side of Neal's face.

"Yeah, he clocked me with the gun when I made a grab for it."

Peter was so furious his hand was shaking as he swept the hair off Neal's brow. "We'll get someone to look at it." He said, letting his fingers trace the side of Neal's face, caressing the outer edge of the reddened skin.

Neal cleared his throat as he turned his eyes up, probably to look at Jones -who was probably wondering just what the hell he was seeing. Peter drew his hand back slowly. He wasn't going to act like a kid who had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, even though he felt like one.

"Diana's on her way with the rest of the team and the EMT's. They should be here in less than two minutes." He reported dutifully, though Peter could hear something in his voice that said he was concerned.

Neal tried to stand, so Peter took a few steps away to give him room to move. Neal's eyes were distant as he straightened. Peter knew he was trying to process his strange behavior toward him and make it make sense. Peter could sympathize because he was trying to do the same thing.

* * *

><p>"Peter, can I talk to you for a minute?"<p>

"Huh, yeah sure." Peter looked around to see if something had gone horribly wrong while he'd been checking on Neal and Marianna while the EMT's checked them out. Hughes never came to a site unless things had really gone to hell. Which they had, he supposed, but no more than usual.

"Is something wrong, Sir?" He asked as Hughes beckoned him behind the special ops truck.

He didn't answer right away which was making Peter more than a little concerned. His face must have betrayed his concern, "I just wanted you know that Lehmann's on his way to the hospital. His wound in not life-threatening, but Peter," Hughes look uncharacteristically unsure, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you on leave until the investigation into the shooting is done."

"What? That was a clean shoot."

"I know, I know, but this is your first shooting since El passed. They'd hang me if I didn't put you on leave, especially since Neal was involved."

"Neal?"

"Peter do you know how many Officer Involved Shooting's you had on your record before you started working with Neal?"

Peter didn't really want to answer that, "The cases Neal works are inherently more dangerous."

"They are," Hughes nodded his agreement, "but you can't tell me that your relationship with Neal didn't affect your decision to shoot, instead of issuing the standard cease and desist first."

Peter felt an uncomfortable squirm in his stomach, "He might have killed Neal."

"Or he might have dropped his weapon and stepped away."

Peter felt himself flush, "I didn't have time to think about maybes."

"Yeah, Jones said as much." Hughes shook his head at Peter's startled breath, "He's not betraying you, Peter. His official story in going to match yours word for word, but off the record he's concerned that maybe after the way Neal helped you and El... that maybe you've lost some perspective when it comes to working with him."

"He's my friend and coworker. I would do the same for anyone else." Peter was confident in his words and let it show in his voice.

Hughes exhaled through his nose heavily, "Peter, it's been less than a year since El passed, you're still a little raw and you came back to work too soon. Take the time to think about your job and get a little distance from everything, Neal included, and see if you don't find yourself looking at everything a little differently. Okay?"

"Sure," Peter said, though he wasn't sure he wanted time to think and the thought of being away from Neal for so long...

"Good. We'll see you in two weeks then."

"What? You want me to leave now?"

"By the end of the day I want your badge and gun on my desk." Hughes said turning to leave with a curt nod.

"By the end of the day?" Peter muttered as Hughes walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ouch!" Peter said grimacing dramatically as Neal opened the door.

"Thanks, Peter," Neal deadpanned as he moved back to the painting he was working on.

"Well, at least he didn't break anything."

"Break anything? Peter if you hadn't got there in time, he would have killed me."

Peter felt cold fear settle in his stomach. "Maybe, but me and Jones made it in time, so let's not think about that."

"Agreed," Neal said slapping out his paintbrush against the easel.

"So, why all the blowback for the shooting?"

"Oh, there's not really, this is all just precautionary. Jones saw him with a weapon raised, so it should be fine. I'm just out until they get everything cleared up."

"And you're bored already?"

"Well, it is the weekend and with your shiner I knew you won't be out working a case so...?" Peter made himself conspicuously comfortable on Neal's couch.

"So, I'll make us dinner, while you pick out the wine." Neal said, turning to him with a smile as he wiped the paint from his hands.

Peter smiled back cheekily, interlacing his hands behind his head as he reclined on the couch.

* * *

><p>"Do I even want to know how you can afford wine this good and truffle ice cream?"<p>

"I'll have you know I made the ice cream." Neal said, as he popped another spoonful into his mouth. Peter had to tear his eyes away, because watching Neal lick a spoon was reminding him of everything that had been on his mind the past couple of days, when all he really wanted was to spend time with his best...no that wasn't right, his closest friend. But that wasn't right either...his closest...his closest… and he really hoped that Neal hadn't noticed that his mind had drifted.

But of course Neal noticed, because Neal noticed everything, "You alright, Peter? You haven't had too much to drink, have you?" Neal sat his bowl on the end table as he spoke, looking Peter over.

Peter waved his hand in Neal's general direction, "Nah, I'm fine, just...uh," He shook his head at his own cowardice. Okay, that was it, he could stand a lot of things but being afraid was not one of them. He turned on the small couch so that he was facing Neal. "Is there something...no, that's not what I mean to say...do you..?" Peter was at a loss. Neal leaned in to catch his eye, trying to encourage him to go on. His eyes were so bright and beautiful.

Peter brought a hand up, running a finger along the edge of the bruise on Neal's face. The purple fading to green along the line of his jaw. The area was more stubbled than the rest of his face, the skin too sensitive for him to shave closely. Neal went very still as Peter's hand traveled along his jaw. When he reached Neal's chin he cupped one finger on the underside and brought his thumb to rest in the cleft. Peter closed his eyes as he moved forward and brushed his lips against Neal's.

He felt Neal take in a sharp breath as he pulled back. When he opened his eyes, Neal was giving him that look again. The one that said he was confused and unsure. Peter moved slowly as he came in for another kiss. Neal's lips felt stiff against his and Peter started to fear that he'd made a horrible mistake until he felt Neal respond as he caressed his lips. He lightly nibbled along Neal's bottom lip, planting a soft kiss when he came to corner of his mouth.

"Peter, what are we doing?" Neal was breathless as he spoke. The warmth of his breath ghosting across Peter's skin as he brought his forehead to rest against Neal's.

"I honestly don't know." Peter huffed, "but is it...its...you want this, don't you?"

Neal chuckled lightly and brought his hands up to tangle in Peter's hair, angling his head so he could press their lips together. Peter felt himself smiling into the kiss. He pulled Neal closer, so that they were chest to chest. It didn't feel as strange as he would have thought, as a matter of fact it felt amazing to have Neal's chest rubbing against his as he ran his hands up and down the lean, strong muscles of his back and opened his lips to deepen the kiss.

* * *

><p>He hadn't 'made out' this long with anyone since college. Peter had kissed every inch of Neal's face, ghosting kisses over the bruise Lehmann had made and ending their make out session with a kiss to the tip of Neal's nose before pulling back and melting into the couch. Neal looked so pleasantly ruffled that Peter couldn't help but smirk. Neal, never one to be outdone, climbed across the couch cushion, swinging his leg over Peter's lap as he straddled him.<p>

Peter gasped as Neal's weight pressed into him. He'd been aroused for some time, but the feeling of Neal's body pressing into him sent him into overload and he arched up into Neal's inner thigh. "Sorry," He gasped, feeling a little embarrassed.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, Peter." Neal said as he came in for another kiss, his hands wrapping around the back of Peter's neck as they began to rock together. Oh! Oh this was good. He could feel the muscles of Neal's inner thighs rubbing against his outer thighs, while his hands roamed over his back and shoulders. Peter was so aroused he actually was starting to become concerned that he might lose control like some love struck teenager and slowed his movements to keep himself in check.

"Is something wrong? Do I need to stop?" Neal said, sounding urgent and breathless.

"No, no, it's just... I'm going to... if we keep this up."

"Really?" Neal's voice was amused, his eyes shining in mischief.

"Yes, really," Peter said shaking his head as Neal preened. Damn it, he walked right into that one.

"Well, we can't have that can we?" Neal said as he slide to the floor in front of Peter.

Peter took in a deep lungful of air to keep himself from passing out as all the blood in his body rushed south. Neal hesitated, "If you're not ready...I won't to do anything you don't want me to do."

"It's not that...it's just been awhile."

Neal's face softened, "I know. I'll go as slow as you need me to. I just want to make you feel good." Neal said as he stood on his knees to lean into Peter. Peter lifted from his prone position to bring their lips together. His nerves faded as they kissed, muscles that he hadn't realized he had tensed, relaxing at Neal's gentle touch.

He pulled back, keeping his eyes on Neal's face as he reclined back into the couch.

"Remember, if I do anything you're not comfortable with…"

"I'm comfortable, I'm ready." Peter's face heated and he knew he had to be blushing, "I want you to touch me."

Neal grinned as he ran his hands up Peter's calves, up around his knees and bringing them to rest on his thighs. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Anything you want to do to me, anyway you want to touch me is fine. Okay?" Neal nodded as he spoke, stopping and waiting patiently for Peter to respond.

"Okay, yes," He said hoarsely and gave himself over to the moment.

* * *

><p>"I feel the need to defend my honor." Peter said, still catching his breath. He felt Neal's entire body shaking with suppressed laughter. The couch was really too small for them to be cuddled together like this, but it gave Peter a good excuse to hold Neal a little tighter. "How so?"<p>

"I, well, I won't say I'm known for my stamina, because there have only been a handful of people who would know, but of the people I've been with, none of them would describe me as a...uh, two minute man."

Neal apparently found that very amusing as he couldn't suppress his laughter any longer. "You don't have to worry about impressing me, Peter. Your honor's intact."

"Yes, well, just so you know after I've got my strength back and I can feel my toes again. You're going to be very impressed."

"I'm sure I will be." Neal said as turned his face into Peter's shoulder, planting a soft kiss to his neck as they relaxed into one another.

* * *

><p>Well, that wasn't right. Peter used his elbows to lift himself up a little. He was in Neal's bed, half-dressed, while Neal was nowhere to be seen. The last thing he remembered was lying on the couch with Neal cuddled next to him. Peter fell back against the pillow, covering his face with one hand. Some red-hot lover he was, he'd fallen asleep on Neal.<p>

"You're up?" Neal's voice was bright, but Peter could hear the apprehension underneath.

Peter pulled himself up a little. "I can't believe I fell asleep on you."

"It's not a problem. Though getting you from the couch to the bed was quite the adventure. You know you get a little belligerent when you're half-asleep."

Peter rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of the perfectly made other half of the bed. "Where did you sleep?"

Neal swallowed as he looked down at the towel in his hand. He was painting again. "I slept on the couch. I didn't want to disturb you."

Peter felt his mouth hanging open and shut it. "You didn't want to disturb me or you thought I might freak out if I woke up in bed with you?" Neal's shoulders slumped, knowing he had been caught.

"The thought occurred." He conceded nodding his head and not meeting Peter's eyes.

"And what do you think now?" Peter challenged.

"I think that whatever happens next I will accept and understand as long as we're still friends."

Peter lost some of his ire at the acquiescence in Neal's voice. He lifted his hand, palm up motioning for Neal to come to him. "Well, I think I have a promise I need to keep."

Neal looked at the proffered hand, "Peter, I don't want you to feel like you've made any commitments you're not ready for. If last night was just about being lonely or a one-time thing I can accept that. I just want you to be happy and comfortable, not to feel obligated..."

"I don't do one-time things." Peter interrupted, "and last night was not about being lonely. It was about a beginning not an end."

Neal eyes came to meet his then; his face more open then Peter had ever seen it. He wiped his hands on the towel he had been using, throwing it behind him and turning back to Peter, looking so genuinely pleased that he was practically radiating happiness.

Peter felt a catch in his throat and had to swallow hard to keep himself from waxing poetic about how absolutely gorgeous Neal was as he walked toward him, his hips swinging seductively. "I do seem to recall some promises in regards to stamina that I feel need to be kept." He said jokingly, taking Peter's hand and allowing himself to be drawn down to the bed and into Peter's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

"Peter!" He couldn't help but startle at little at the sound of someone hissing his name behind him. He had thought this hallway was empty when he started down it.

"Neal?" Peter turned around to find where Neal's voice was coming from.

Neal's bright blue eyes edged around the corner of the alcove he'd just passed. "What are you doing?" Peter asked looking up and down the hall to make sure they were alone.

"Waiting for you," Neal answered pulling him into the tiny space.

"I thought we agreed that we would be discreet at work."

"We're in a deserted hallway." Neal argued pulling Peter closer, using his jacket as leverage.

"I get the feeling we don't have the same definition for the word 'discreet'." Peter said, even as he put his hands around Neal's waist.

"What? It's not like we're making out on your desk."

"Neal," Peter murmured as their lips drew closer, "we are not going to make out at work."

"Of course not," Neal whispered against his lips as they met, not sounding convincing in the least.

Peter pulled away slowly, using his thumb to wipe at the moisture on his bottom lip.

"Welcome back, Peter," Neal said, stepping back and putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

"Thanks, but didn't you already welcome me back when everyone else did this morning."

"Did I? I'm sorry but everything's been such a blur this morning. I seem to remember waking up with this guy, sexy as hell by the way, and the next thing I know I'm waiting in this alcove."

"Really?" Peter was pressing his lips together to keep himself from smiling.

"Yeah, it's been so dull around here without you. It's been a struggle just to keep myself amused. I gotta be honest... I missed you." Neal could lie and look anyone right in the eye. The fact that he was turning his face away as he spoke said that he really meant what he was saying.

"We've spent every night for the past week-and-half together. How did you have time to miss me?"

"That was 'home Peter'. He's very different from 'work Peter'. Still amazing, but different." Neal shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, 'work Peter' is going to go grab some things from the conference room and 'work Neal' is going to...?"

"Go back to his desk and work like the good little Independent Contractor that he is?" Neal suggested brightly.

"Exactly," Peter said.

"You know 'work Peter' is kind of bossy."

Peter narrowed his eyes so he could give Neal his best glare. Which just caused Neal to roll his eyes at him. Peter had perfected that steely glare through years of training and he thought it really deserved more respect than that. Neal peeked around the corner quickly, then turned giving Peter a wink before making his getaway.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Petey!"<p>

"Agent Kramer?" Peter stood buttoning his coat with one hand and offering the other as he came from behind his desk, "What's DC doing in the Big Apple?"

"I can't come to visit my favorite mentee?"

"Course, course, have a seat." Peter waved to the seat in front of his desk. As Kramer settled in, Peter spared a glance into the pen. As he expected Neal, Jones and Diana all scattered under his scrutiny.

"Nothing like a visit from DC to make people scurry," Kramer quipped as Peter took his seat.

"I'm sure they have questions."

"And, so do you?" Kramer suggested. Peter opened his hands wide to show that he was ready for Kramer to continue.

"I've got a case and I think your boy in there would be a perfect fit for it."

Peter shuffled the papers on his desk. It was a nervous gesture, so he cupped his hands together to stop himself from fiddling. "In New York?"

"No it's in DC, but the agency's willing to put him up for as long as it takes and take care of his expenses."

"You know Neal's an Independent Contractor now. He chooses where he works. You're talking to the wrong man."

"Oh, I know, but Hughes suggested I talk to you first. Wouldn't want to seem like I was stepping on any toes."

"Like I said, Neal's his own man now. Would you like for me to call him in?"

Kramer frowned at him, shrugging his shoulders. "If that's alright with you?"

Peter got up, walking out of his office to look into the bullpen and point two fingers at Neal, beckoning him into his office. Jones and Diana began whispering to one another as Neal walked by, shooting them a surprised face.

"Peter," Neal greeted as he came through the door, "Agent Kramer," Neal nodded in deference as he came into the room.

"You know each other?" Peter felt his brow knitting together.

"Yeah, we met at the funeral." Neal said, sounding apologetic that he had to mention the circumstance of their meeting.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was so out of it I don't even remember half the people who came." Peter said, moving to his desk. Neal shook his head when Peter offered the other chair in the office to him, leaning on the edge of the bookcase instead.

He had that worried look he got when others brought up El. Like Peter was going to lose it or something. Peter saw Kramer's eyes moving from him to Neal and back again. The frown was still on his face. He was thinking hard about something. Peter straightened his jacket and tie to remind himself and Neal that they were in a professional setting and should behave accordingly.

So far they had been doing a good job of keeping their private life private. Of course it had only been a few weeks and most of their co-workers knew how close they were anyway. If they had noticed that anything had changed they hadn't mentioned it, but Kramer was an outsider and sometimes outsiders could see things from a different perspective. And Kramer, Kramer was a master at reading people. Hell, he'd taught Peter how to read suspects, witnesses, a jury.

Neal must have picked up on Peter's nerves, because his voice was all business when he spoke. "So, what can I do for you Agent Kramer?"

"Well, Neal I've got a case in DC that I think could use your expertise. I was hoping you would agree to come down, go undercover, as only you could and help us out. I know you're based in NY, but if you agree to work the case you'll get to stay in the best hotel in the district and we'll pick up the tab."

Neal's eyes darted to his briefly, "And what kind of case could the DC bureau have that they would need me for?"

Kramer crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair slightly. "Art forger, one of the best I've ever seen. The thing is, he mixes his forgeries in with his legitimate dealings, so we need an expert on the inside to make sure we don't try to arrest the man only to find a warehouse full of originals. We were lucky enough to pick up his fence and know that he is looking for a replacement. He is known to be extremely picky about the people he works with. I know that you, yourself have a certain talent..."

"Alleged," Neal cut in automatically.

"Alleged," Kramer nodded his head, "talent for forgery and I thought if we could set up a meet you could lead us to an arrest."

Neal rolled his lips between his teeth as he thought, his eyes traveling to Peter's briefly. Peter pulled his gaze away but it was too late. He saw the flash in Kramer's eyes -the one that he always got when he'd figured something. Peter had almost forgotten how perceptive the man was and damned him for it.

"I'll have to think about it. I'm pretty attached to New York and something like this could keep me away for months."

"Fair enough." Kramer said, his eyes sliding to Peter, who was very purposefully not looking at Neal. "Do you think you could have a decision for me before I head back to DC in the morning?" Even though the question had been for Neal, Kramer's eyes stayed on Peter.

"I'll let you know first thing." Neal said as he straightened, coming a step closer to force Kramer to look at him.

"Till then, Neal, Peter," Kramer greeted as he stood, shaking Peter's hand and then Neal's as he left the room.

Neal watched as he did a quick jog down the stairs, stopping to pat a few backs as he made his way to the elevator.

"Peter, I think he might have picked up on something."

"You think?" Peter said on a sharp exhale.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Peter's ire deflated at the sincere confusion in Neal's face. "You know how you 'allegedly' have a talent for forgery. Well, Kramer's got a talent too. He can read people better than almost anyone I've ever known, in the agency or out. Whatever you did or I did he picked up on it."

"That's kind of creepy." Neal's face had a slightly disgusted look on it.

"Yeah, well he taught me a lot when I was a probie, but there were a few things he kept up his sleeve."

"Is this bad? Could it cause trouble for you?" Neal's voice had grown quiet with concern.

"No, I mean you're an IC now not a CI. Hughes is your direct supervisor, so there wouldn't be much agency blowback. We know that once we make our relationship public we'd be pulled from working directly together on cases. I just wanted..." Peter trailed off.

Speaking when Neal looked at him expectantly, "I wanted us to have a little more time as just us, before you know," Peter probably looked like he had tasted something sour as he said the words, "coming... out."

Neal's stifled laughter was so powerful that he had to bend at the waist as he tried to catch his breath. "Peter you make it sound like we're going to invite everyone to Christmas Dinner and surprise them."

"Well, I was hoping we'd be a little more subtle than that."

"Peter you do realize that June knows you stay over or that when I don't come home it's because I'm staying with you and that there was no way in hell Mozzie bought that story about you spilling coffee on your suit when he caught you in the apartment in a bathrobe."

"Yes, I know, but work..."

"Parker told me that Jones has a pool going."

"A what?" Peter's voice held no humor.

"A 'will they' or 'won't they' pool." Neal just shrugged at Peter's appalled face, "He was trying to get inside information before he made his bet."

"And did he get any?"

Neal gave him 'the smile' -the smile that said he'd not said anything incriminating to Parker, but had not said it in such a way that he had probably managed to confuse the hell out of the man and leave him wondering.

Peter slumped back in his chair trying to process Neal's words.

"So are you still going to enforce that 'no making out on your desk' rule?"

* * *

><p>Peter was feeling pleasantly buzzed as Neal crawled back in the bed to cuddle up next to him. They were lying face to face on same pillow sporting matching smiles. "So, you're really not going to ask me about DC?"<p>

"Your work decisions are your own. I'll be glad to offer my opinion, but only if asked."

Neal pursed his lips together and nodded, "Well, this is me asking?"

"Okay, let's see, I learned a lot from Kramer when I was in DC. He's very intelligent and a hard worker, very diligent and tenacious. I enjoyed the city well enough, it's not New York, but it's got its own charm. Have you been?"

"I've floated through, shall we say."

"You were on the run and didn't stop to smell the cherry blossoms."

Neal narrowed his eyes to glare, so Peter ignored him and continued, "If the case goes well, Kramer's connected enough that you could end up working nationally, even internationally."

Neal's face was growing distant as Peter spoke, "All that sounds great, but what I'd really like to know is how you feel about it."

How did he feel about Neal leaving him for months on end, possibly traveling the country, putting himself in danger in places Peter couldn't reach him? "I don't want you to go." He said squinting his eyes as he gave Neal a grimace. He knew how selfish he sounded, but it was the truth.

Neal smiled at him, it was an unusual smile for Neal, not broad or filled with false charm, but small and quiet. "Then I'm not going."

Peter felt a small wave of guilt. Neal could do amazing work, travel the world the way he always wanted, make more money...but then... Neal turned, burrowing himself into Peter's arms as they settled in for the night and Peter's guilt faded away under the pressure of Neal's head resting on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Neal and Peter stepped apart as they came to the 20th floor. They had stopped for some 'real' coffee and were running a little late because Neal had gotten caught up in an overly long conversation with a barista about the art program she had applied to in France.<p>

Peter saw Neal stiffen as they came into the bullpen. Kramer was leaning over the railing in front of Peter's office. He'd obviously been waiting and seemed none too pleased about it. He had frown lines on his forehead that he tried to soften as he stood, nodding to Peter as he and Neal walked through the room to him.

"Good Morning, Agent Kramer." Neal chirped as they came up the stairs. "Good Morning? In DC we'd call this elevensies." Kramer said, smiling at his own joke.

Peter response was gruff sounding, "It's only a little after nine. We got caught up this morning." Kramer's brow to rose into his hairline. Probably due more to Peter's use of 'we' than his tone. There was a time when Peter had felt that the agency's policy of having probie's switch divisions after training was overly intrusive, but now he was beginning to see their point. Kramer had only spent maybe 20 minutes in his presence in the last 24 hours and it was already starting to feel a little overbearing.

"Shall, we." Kramer said gesturing to Peter's office as though it were his own. Peter felt his ire rise even further. "There's no need, Agent Kramer. I've already made my decision," Neal took his coffee from the holder in Peter's hand. "Your case sounds fascinating, but my base is New York and I have no interest in leaving."

Peter tried to hide his smile as Neal shot Kramer down, keeping his voice friendly as he did so. Kramer's face turned stony as Neal nodded to him once before departing for his desk. Peter offered the extra coffee he'd bought for himself to Kramer wordlessly. "No thanks," Kramer said as he watched Neal take the seat at his desk, sharing a few words with Jones who was asking Neal where his latte had gotten to.

"That's too bad. Did you tell him what an opportunity this could be for him, Petey?"

"Neal did ask what I thought and I told him, but the decision not to go was his." Peter was starting to wonder if Kramer needed an escort to the elevator.

"You sure about that, Peter?"

Peter felt his jaw tighten dangerously. "I am."

"You know the first time I saw him at the funeral," Kramer's voice softened slightly on the word funeral, "he was comforting El's aunt. I think he barely knew the woman, but he was so caring and compassionate, by the time he was done talking she was actually smiling. She told me what a help he'd been before El passed, practically a nursemaid for her and you."

Peter was taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. "What's your point?" He gritted out.

Kramer continued in a lackadaisical storytelling voice, "A few minutes later he was wheeling and dealing with the funeral director, making sure he wouldn't stick it to you on the billing. He was so damn charming I think he could have talked the man into providing the service pro bono." Kramer turned to him, "A man like Neal could build a real career for himself. It's a rare gift to be able to be all things to all people. To be just what they need, when they need it."

Peter's retort died on his lips as Kramer's words unfurled in his mind. He stood there numbly as Kramer slapped him on the shoulder and stepped around him to take the stairs down to the pen. Neal looked up from under his lashes as Kramer stormed past, turning turned to give Peter a knowing smile. The smile faded when he saw what, Peter was sure, must have been a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I like to think I'm whatever the situation calls for." Neal had said that to him once and Peter had seen him do it. Over and over again, if they needed a forger, a gambler, a financier, an heir...anything. Neal did it. Did it so damn convincingly that Peter had, on more than one occasion, to talk suspects into believing that Neal had been the one to set them up. A few had not even been convinced until they saw Neal take the stand at trial.

Neal stood, concern showing on his face. Peter lifted his hand to wave him down -he couldn't do this right now. He needed time to think…to process. He turned toward his office door, almost dropping the coffee container he'd forgotten he was holding as he opened it.

No one could do that...no one was that good, he tried to reason, except Neal, the voice in his head chimed in reply. When Peter had needed a confidential informant, a friend, a caretaker, handyman, a lover… Neal had been right there.

Peter fingers were numb as he pressed the button to close the shades to his office. He almost never used them, unless he was interviewing a nervous witness or informant. It would cause Neal to worry, but he knew that the shade was a good as a 'do not disturb' sign and he would keep his distance until Peter was ready to talk to him. Though at that moment he wasn't sure he would ever be able to face Neal again.


	8. Chapter 8

"You know you could have just said 'Not tonight, Neal', you didn't need to sneak out of the office."

Peter shifted guiltily in the doorway, "I know, I just," Satch tugged at his leash, ready to go. "I was just getting ready to take Satch out."

Neal bent down to greet him. He'd been staying at Neal's some and he had been spoiling him rotten, letting him take over one of Neal's (well, June's) chairs and keeping snacks on hand to reward him after his walk.

"Why don't you take Satch for his walk and I'll open a bottle of wine and wait for you tell me why you've been avoiding me all day."

"Sure," Peter said hesitantly. Neal's confidence faded in the light of Peter's uncertainty. "Peter, if you don't want me here, all you have to do is say it. If you need space or I've done something."

"No, no it's not you. I just, I've been thinking about a few things and I'm," Peter exhaled dropping his shoulders, "I can't figure out a way to bring them up without it sounding...,"

"Peter whatever you have to say, you can say it to me. I'd much rather have a blunt truth than you hiding on me. I...," Neal's voice trailed off pained.

God, he was such an ass. How could he do that to Neal after Kate? "Damnit, Neal. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking. I was just so caught up."

"Kramer did this." No one could ever accuse Neal of being stupid, "What? Did he warn you away from me? Tell you that I'd ruin your life because honestly, he might be right."

"Neal!" He knew Peter hated it when he talked about himself like that, "Just give me a few minutes to let Satch burn off some energy, go open a bottle of wine for us and we'll talk when I get back alright?"

Neal's eyes were shining as he blinked rapidly, nodding but not meeting Peter's eyes as he stepped around him and into the house. Peter stood there and waited for the sound of the door lock engaging before taking off down the stairs with Satch in tow.

* * *

><p>"Neal?" He called as he came through the door releasing Satch's collar. Neal leaned back in the seat he had taken at the bar, "I'm here."<p>

Peter walked down the short hallway noticing how long it seemed suddenly. Neal had stood as Peter walked to him, "I hope whatever you have to say isn't as bad as all that," He said looking into the glass of red he was holding.

He was at a loss as to what to say as he came to a stop within arms reach of Neal.

"Okay, just tell me, Peter."

"It was something that Kramer said, but not a warning really, just an observation." He said quietly.

"And what did he observe?" Neal was being carefully neutral in his words, not wanting to insult a man that he thought Peter looked up to.

"You and how talented you are," Neal's brow arched dramatically at that. "This is about the DC job?"

"No, it's not. It's about us and you and who you are."

"Well, that's not cryptic at all."

"It's just... It's so much a part of you, I don't think you can help it and it's not a criticism."

"Peter, you're not making sense."

No, he wasn't. He felt a slight tremor in his lip and covered it by swallowing hard, "When I needed you to be a great CI, you were a great CI, when I needed someone to help me while El...," Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat, "you were there," Neal took a step back, his eyes sliding away from Peter as he listened to his words, "When I needed a friend, you were a friend and when I needed a lover…," Neal's eyes came back, the focus sharper than Peter had seen in a while.

"You think I'm conning you." Neal's voice was soft, but his teeth were clenched so tight that Peter was sure it was causing him pain.

"Not on purpose. It's a part of you Neal, you pick up on what people need," Neal turned his back to him, setting his glass on the counter sloppily. "Once a con, always a con, that is what they say." Neal was going for his jacket as he spoke.

"Think about it, Neal." Peter's voice was as placating as he could manage with his stomach roiling. "You didn't have feelings for me till I started having feelings for you. I was needy and you responded to that need."

Neal pulled the jacket on and froze. Peter's words were getting through. Neal looked at him over his shoulder, "The day Kate died..."

"You never had to pay me back for that."

"The day Kate died," Neal started again, turning and talking over Peter's words, "You asked me why I didn't call you. Why I didn't say good-bye." Peter put his hands on his hips, nodding his head in agreement. He could recall the conversation clearly. "I told you it was because you were the only person that could talk me into staying." Peter shook his head, "The life you'd built here was good, you're rewriting history."

"I was leaving because of you." Well, if he wanted to stop Peter in his tracks he succeeded. "I was falling for you. If El had given me a reason..."

"No, you never gave any indication, not once." Peter argued, he was dim when it came to these things sometimes, but if Neal had had feelings for him he would have seen it.

"Because I loved El and the two of you were so..." Neal face had a dreamy expression as he searched for the right words, "I didn't want to hurt you or her. So, I kept my distance and my feelings in check. That was the con, Peter!" Neal was pointing dramatically behind him, as though time had a direction. "Not this, not now!"

"Maybe you should take the DC job, get a little space and perspective."

Neal licked his bottom lip as he shook his head ruefully, "You think I'm going to work for a man that plants ideas like this. He knew how you'd react."

"Kramer isn't that smart. He thinks he knows it all, but..."

"He thinks! You're standing there telling me that I've conned myself into loving you. That I'm rewriting history to rationalize our relationship." Neal was shaking his head, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles were turning white with the pressure.

Neal could always be reasoned with; he would see the logic in Peter's proposal. Peter took a shuddering breath, "Take some time to think about everything…"

"And if I come back from DC and I'm still in love with you?"

Damnit! Peter shook his head. "Neal, you chased Kate for years. You grab hold of an idea and you don't let go."

"So, DC's just a red herring. No matter what I think, you've already decided that I've got some sort of compulsive personality disorder, that my feelings aren't real."

"I told you, Neal," Peter sounded as defeated as he felt, "I don't think you can help it."

Neal bolted past him, "Neal!"

"Go to hell, Peter!" He seethed, tearing his arm away when Peter made a grab for it.

Neal never broke stride as he ran-walked out of the house and down the stairs, leaving the door gaping. Peter walked to the door slowly, calling Satch back when he went to investigate where Neal had gone. He took the door handle, closing it, as he looked out at nothing.

This was for the best. It was. He'd think about it. See that Peter was right and maybe... no, no he wasn't delusional enough to think that they could ever be friends again, but at least Neal would be free to make his own choices, to find out what he really wanted.

Peter lay his forehead against the door jam. The pain hitting now that he'd done what he needed to do. He felt tears stinging his eyes -then their hot trails as they slide down his face. He pulled his head back, punching the door viciously and letting the ache distract him as he tried to catch his breath.


	9. Chapter 9

Peter tried for the umpteenth time to refocus on the report in front of him. Hughes had been oddly accommodating considering his inability to get his head together for the past couple of days. He berated himself for worrying. It wasn't even like Neal was in danger or had even dropped off radar. He was still at June's (he'd called June just to check-in) and hadn't made any travel plans in any of the alias' Peter had for him. Which wasn't to say that Mozzie hadn't gotten Neal a new one, but Haversham seemed to be spending most of time with Neal as far as he could tell.

Peter had come to work the day after, well, their break up to find Neal's desk empty and a confused Hughes pointing at him from the door of his office.

"Neal came into my office this morning with a resignation letter. Did you know about this?" Hughes asked before Peter could even take his seat. He steeled his expression; he didn't want Hughes to see the stab of pain Peter felt in his gut. He'd known that whatever Neal decided to do he would do it quickly, but it still hurt.

"It's not a surprise, but I didn't know."

"Not a?" Hughes was incredulous, "Did Kramer make him a better offer? I should have known better than to let that...,"

"I don't think Neal is going to be working for Kramer. He just needs a change of scenery. He needs to figure a few things out, I think, and he really never chose this, he just fell into it."

Hughes confused face was almost comical. "I had the impression that this was the only place he wanted to be."

Peter shrugged his shoulders helplessly, not feeling confident that he could form a coherent response. Hughes had given him a disgusted look and waved his hand in Peter's direction indicating that Peter should get the hell out of his office, so he did.

He had asked a few sources to do some recon work for him as soon as he made it back to his office. He supposed he should have felt guilty for keeping tabs on Neal, but just because he believed Neal was in the long run going to be better off on his own didn't mean that he was going to stand on the sidelines, if he decided to do something stupid or self-destructive. He'd have to play his cards very carefully, though. If Neal did do something that put himself or his freedom in danger, he would have to step in, even if it impinged on the freedom that Peter was trying to give him.

The phone startled him from his thoughts and away from the report he still wasn't reading. He knew he sounded gruff when he answered, barking out, "Burke, here."

"Peter? It's Sara Ellis."

Peter straightened. He should have known she would call him directly the next time Sterling-Bosch needed the agency.

His, "Sara, what can the agency do for you, today?" was overly bright even to his own ears.

"I'm not calling on Sterling business, at least not strictly speaking." Something was going on with Neal.

"Neal's not doing something crazy, is he?"

"Only if you call asking for a job at the Nation's premier insurance company crazy." He tried to calm the bile rising in his throat. He'd gone to Sara. That was good. It was. Sara was a good, strong woman who didn't need Neal for anything.

"Well, if you're calling for a recommendation. You know that Neal's work..."

"Peter," she interrupted, "I know Neal's qualified. That's not why I'm calling," Peter heard a voice filter through the phone and allowed his focus to wander while Sara answered the speaker. "Peter, I'm at work. Can you do lunch today? I really need to talk to you."

Peter was a little apprehensive. He was sure Neal was smart enough not to tell his ex that he and Peter were... had been in a relationship if he wanted a job from her, but maybe she needed reassurance that he wasn't going to be a factor anymore. He could do that, would do it for Neal. "Sure, you pick the place."

* * *

><p>Peter saw that Sara had taken a corner booth. Of course she wanted privacy, she was fishing for a reason behind Neal's departure from the bureau.<p>

"Sara, you're looking lovely today." She partially rose out of her seat to greet him, "Thanks, Peter, wish I could say the same."

"Oh, I didn't sleep well last night."

"That's what Neal said, when I saw to him yesterday."

Peter felt worry knot in his stomach, "But he's okay?"

She smiled sadly at him, "As okay as he can be, Peter."

He'd told her. That, he was not expecting. "He told you about..."

"He didn't have to. The second he showed up at my door I knew that either he or you had done something stupid," she was unfolding her napkin as she spoke, spreading it across her lap as she continued, "it didn't take much to get him to tell me everything."

Peter swallowed embarrassed. Everything could mean a lot. How Peter'd had to get a little drunk to kiss him for the first time or how Neal had dissolved into a laughing fit the first time Peter had given him a blowjob, because according to Neal, 'he looked so damn serious' about it.

He shook his head to clear it. "So, do you want to know if I'm going to stay away?"

Sara's brow fell as she looked at him, "Peter, I always thought you were a smart man, but you're really starting to make me reassess that opinion."

"Did he tell you...?"

"That you think he created his feeling for him out of some sort of need to please. Yeah, he mentioned that Peter." She sounded genuinely insulted on Neal's behalf and Peter supposed if you looked at it from the outside.

"Sara," He pleaded, "he obviously agrees on some level. He left the bureau."

"Of course, he left Peter. He's in love with you. Neal's all about tragic love but even he isn't going to stay in the same office with someone who would think so little..."

"I do not think less of Neal!" Peter adjusted his position, so that his back was to the rest of the restaurant. "If anything I think less of myself. I should have taken the time to think about Neal and how he interacts with people in his life before jumping into a relationship with him. I was the one being selfish."

Sara was tapping her heel under the table as he spoke, waiting for her turn. She rolled her eyes at him as he finished, "Peter, Neal's feelings for you didn't change just because your feeling for him did."

"I'm sorry Sara, but you haven't been here. You and Neal parted before El passed away and I know for a fact that until yesterday you haven't seen him since the funeral, so you can't possibly know how Neal's changed in the last year."

"I'm not saying he hasn't changed, but those feelings Peter," She shook her head as the waiter came to the table. Peter hadn't even looked at the menu, so they both ordered the special to get the man out of their hair.

They were silent as the waiter walked away to put their order in, "The night Neal led you to the treasure I went to see him," Sara was usually good at keeping her emotions in check, but Peter could hear the hurt in her voice as she spoke. "I was coming up the stairs at June's when I heard him and Mozzie arguing. Mozzie asked him why he would throw away the biggest score of their lives. Do want to guess what Neal's number one reason for staying was?" She laughed bitterly, "I didn't even come in second."

Peter deflated, giving her a compassionate look, "He had built a good life here. I helped him..."

She laughed at him, plastering a fake smile as the waiter refilled their water. "I still tried. I thought we could build something and that I could handle being with a man that was in love with someone else. Especially since that someone else was so out of reach, but when El got sick... it's not that he was waiting in the wings… he wouldn't do that, but the way he took care of you and El. I'd thought playing second to you was something I could learn to live with, but playing third to my unknowing rival's wife was just a little too much for my ego."

Sara's words and Neal's denials were starting to fill in a picture in Peter's head. "I'm sorry if I leaned on Neal too much when El was sick. I didn't mean to come between the two of you."

Sara let out a defeated breath, "You didn't, Peter. Neal was the one who chose you and El over me. He knew what he was doing. Then and now." Her eyes were steel.

"What is he...is planning to stay in New York?" Peter's voice was gruff-sounding, so he took a drink. "He doesn't know what he's going to do. I think he's too hurt," Peter felt the words like a punch in the chest, "to make any big life decisions right now. But he won't wait long, Peter. The second he gets over the shock of it all, he's going to run."

* * *

><p>Peter could feel the difference in the house the moment he closed the door. Satch could have been asleep somewhere and not heard him enter, but..,<p>

"Don't freak, Suit. It's just me."

"Mozzie!" Peter looked around the living room, catching the reflected light of the streetlight shining off Mozzie's head. He was sitting in his office chair, hands folded in front of him on Peter's desk.

"Satch is on the back porch. You know El would be upset with you for leaving him alone for so long."

"I have a dog-walker and," Peter turned on the light, shucking his coat as he walked down the hall, "I'm not usually this late."

"All the same." Mozzie was glaring at him from his desk. He had to hand it to the man. He really had a flare for the dramatic when needed.

"How did you get in my house? Did you talk that kid into..."

Mozzie lifted a set of keys from the top of the desk, "I had no need to bribe your neighbor. El gave me a set."

"El gave you, a known criminal, keys to our house."

"Ms' wasn't quite as judgmental as you are."

"No, she wasn't." He let his exhaustion show as he spoke. "Moz, what are you doing here?"

"Doing something that I thought I'd never have to again after Kate died."

"You're comparing me to Kate?" Peter couldn't even begin to process all the feelings that accusation brought up.

"Actually you're worse." Mozzie came forward on his elbows as he spoke. "Neal trusted you. He might have said he loved Kate, but if there's no trust, it isn't really love in my opine. I tried to tell him about you, but no one ever listens to me."

"Tell him what about me?"

"That you weren't quite as sophisticated as he thought when it came to affairs of the heart and would probably panic on him the first second someone gave you some push back."

Peter straightened, "I didn't panic because, well, apparently I'm in love with a man. I panicked because I thought I was taking advantage of him. I'm no Kate. I would never want to use who Neal is against him."

"Neal is who is he is. He isn't going to change," Peter opened his mouth to argue that Neal had changed, but Mozzie spoke over him, "he might channel his talents and skills for use by the good guys now, but if you don't accept him for who he is, it's best you just stay away. I'm not going to stand by and watch him get torn apart again."

"I know, Moz. I didn't mean to hurt him. I was doing what I thought was best."

"What you thought was best?" Mozzie sat back in the chair steepling his fingers. "But you don't think that anymore?"

"I think that what I have to say to Neal is none of your business and that you're just going to have to wait to hear it from him."

"Umm, interesting," Mozzie said, nodding as though he was in deep thought.

Peter was running out of patience, "Did you have something else to say?"

"Besides your being a jerk and whatever you've done to Neal you better fix it and fast. He's off his game and if he bolts when he's in such a highly emotional state he'll make a mistake." Mozzie turned in Peter's chair as he spoke. "At the very least stop by and let him yell at you for a little while. It'll clear his head." Mozzie said coming to a stop in front of him.

"You know Suit, I gotta say I respect that you were willing to let Neal go for his own good. That was a very not-Kate thing to do."

"Thanks," Peter deadpanned.

"Later," Mozzie said as he turned to make his way out of the house. Peter hooked his arm in a firm grip. "The keys, Mozzie?" Peter presented his hand, palm up. Mozzie fidgeted for a moment before pulling the keys out of his pocket and putting them in Peter's hand. "And I'll expect all the copies you made in my hand by tomorrow night."

Mozzie's face fell, "I have a set stored out of state. Can you wait a few days?"

"Every set Moz," He huffed dramatically at Peter's tone as he nodded his head and held up his palms in surrender. "Fine, but if I get pulled over at the border..."

"The border? Why do you have a set of our house keys in Canada?"

Instead of answering he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and pressed his lips together tightly.

Peter took a deep breath, letting go of his arm, "Mozzie, get out of my house."

"'Night, suit." He said as turned to scurry down the hall and out into the night.

"Goodnight, Mozzie."


	10. Chapter 10

"Neal, I know you're in there. Open the door."

"Well, I'm trying to decide if I really want to open the door or if I'm just considering it because I think you need me to open the door."

"Neal, please open the door, I want to talk to you." He heard the lock disengage and Neal's footfalls as he walked away.

Neal was taking his usual seat at the small dining table, going back to his coffee and breakfast as Peter shut the door behind him.

Peter walked toward Neal stopping awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I, uh, was wrong and I'm sorry." He had decided that it would be best to get straight to the point.

Neal turned to him. He looked tired under the stony facade he was giving Peter. "Thank you for stopping by to apologize. I'd offer coffee, but I know you're on your way to work and wouldn't want to be late." He smiled his best 'fake smile' at Peter and went back to his coffee.

"I know this is going to make me sound like a complete... after everything, but you wouldn't have unlocked the door if you weren't going to forgive me."

Neal's stiff posture lapsed. "Peter," he sounded tired, "I knew I was going to forgive you the second I left the house the other night. I just need to be angry for a little while, okay?"

"You have the right to feel however you want to feel for as long as you need to feel it." Neal gave him a doubting look. "I read that somewhere," Peter was a little embarrassed by the admission.

"Well, when I'm done feeling my feelings," Neal turned in his seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he spoke, "I think we need to talk about changing a few of the parameters of our relationship."

Peter nodded, "Of course, I know I need to...?"

"Peter, I love you and who you are. I don't need you to change anything."

"Me, too. But for you. You don't have to change anything. I love you too."

Neal smiled at him, a real one this time, causing Peter to chance taking a few steps closer, coming into a crouch in front of Neal, "Peter, I'm not going back to the bureau."

"What? We love working together."

"How are you ever going to trust me, the real me," Neal put a hand on his heart, "if you have to spend half your life watching me lie?"

"That's work, you're undercover. You've seen me undercover." Neal huffed at him and Peter felt his hackles rise. He was good undercover, maybe not Neal good, but...

"Are you saying that the fact that you watch me lie my way into people's businesses, homes, lives every day has no effect on how you view me? That sometimes you're not going to wonder where the lies stop and the truth begins?"

"I can't say that," Peter leaned in to catch Neal's eyes as they fell from his face, "but I can try to keep the 'work Neal' and 'home Neal' separate and when I try and fail you can kick me in the shins and tell me try harder."

"It won't work Peter, Kate and I tried, but in the end all we did was con and manipulate each other. Mostly because that what we thought the other one was doing."

"We are not you and Kate."

"And we are not you and El. We have to find something in the middle that works for both of us. We don't have to live totally separate home and work lives, but I don't think we can make it, if I go back to the bureau."

Peter wanted to argue the point, but maybe Neal was right. He'd been so easily thrown by Kramer's remarks because there was a part of him that knew what Neal could do to people; how easy it was to fall under Neal's thrall.

Peter went down to his knees, "So you're going to work for Sterling?"

Neal quirked his head to the side, "Have you been watching me or did Moz rat me out?"

Peter winced, "All of the above and I, uh, spoke with Sara."

Neal's face went distant and let out a slow breath, "I guess that means I have Sara to thank for you being here."

"Maybe a little, but I like to think I would have figured it out on my own eventually." Peter said shrugging his shoulders.

Neal's hands came to cup his face, "I like to think so, too."

Peter leaned in to the touch, "Are you still too angry for me to give you a kiss?"

Instead of answering him, Neal just brought his face closer and gave him a soft, forgiving kiss.

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue:<em>

"It's bigger than the bullpen."

"I know it's great!" Neal enthused, "And there's a bar behind those shutters and a private bath. And, when I say bath, I mean it has a bathtub, a shower and a closet full of clothes." Neal was pointing out features as he presented the office of Sterling-Bosch's newest Consultant.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You were slumming it with the FBI."

Neal smiled at him magnanimously, "I had other benefits at the bureau that took higher priority."

"Yeah, crappy coffee and a broken chair. I can't believe you left."

Neal came to him, circling his arms around Peter's waist, "You want to know the best part?" Peter arched his brows as he nodded. "My door locks, I have the only key and my desk is very sturdy."

"Neal, we are not making out in your office." Neal started swaying in his arms and Peter allowed him to start moving them toward the desk. "Peter, do you really think that with an office like this that I only want to make out on the solid mahogany desk that they imported from Italy just for me?"

Peter sat, when he felt the edge of the desk hit the back of his thighs, "I should have known working for Sterling would be bad for your ego."

"Oh, to the contrary, plying me with all these perks because they're afraid I'll leave has been very damaging to my ego and it is in severe need of some stroking." Neal had leaned down as he spoke, whispering the last word into Peter's ear.

"I thought we were doing this to keep our work-life and our home-life separate."

"We are -they are totally separate." Neal said shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. "Except you are sitting on the file for my first case and we'll need some FBI help, but we'll talk about that later."

Peter looked around for any tell-tell signs that the room was monitored by a security camera. "I already checked, Peter. No recording devices of any kind. After all we want the customers of Sterling-Bosch to be feel they can be honest when filing claims, without the fear that their statements will come back to haunt them." Neal said between the light kisses he was brushing along Peter's cheek as he spoke. It was so distracting that Peter hadn't noticed that Neal's hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, until they were halfway up his chest.

Peter surprised Neal by wrapping his arms around him and pulling him flush. "Okay, but just this once to celebrate your new job and your first case." Neal voice was full of mischief, his eyes open and light as his lips came to Peter's and he whispered, "I like that plan."

the end.


End file.
